


learn to love like you

by maplesyrupmafia (elossa)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Didn't Leave the Jedi Order, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Stewjoni Culture (Star Wars), Tatooine Slave Culture (Star Wars), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29820258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elossa/pseuds/maplesyrupmafia
Summary: According to Stewjoni folklore, it was bad luck to tell someone you loved them.To eight-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi, tucked away in a corner of the Archives that Master Nu hardly frequented, it made perfect sense. Promises compel and entrench in a way that statements can never truly encompass. There is something weighty that a simple phrase like I love you can never encapsulate. And that was that.Really, he had no cause to revisit such an opinion.Until almost thirty years later.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 118





	learn to love like you

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to boonki on tumblr for the prompts! they were: “When was the last time you ate anything?” + “Can I do anything that would make it better?”
> 
> do i know how it expanded into this??? no!!!

According to Stewjoni folklore, it was bad luck to tell someone you loved them.

To eight-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi, tucked away in a corner of the Archives that Master Nu hardly frequented, it made  _ perfect sense.  _ That might be because of the tale he had just dutifully read and committed to memory. 

Back before the Republic, before the  _ Jedi,  _ there was a beautiful princess that ruled over Stewjon kindly and fairly. She disdained the furs that adorned her fellow nobility, dressing herself in the simple clothes that her peasants also wore, so much so that unless she wore the crown that lay heavy atop her head, she was indistinguishable from the rest of the people.

With such a beautiful and valiant ruler, it was difficult for many not to fall from her charms. There was a prince that was equally as valiant who ruled over a village some clicks away. He was kind to his people, known to them as The Benevolent. It was of no surprise to the planet when they were meant to be wed. Their parents had arranged the union, the promise of love and stability sealing their decision to do so.

The Force looked kindly upon such caring individuals, and gave them the seeds that they needed to blossom as a pair. Every day they spent with one another, they slowly grew more fond of one another. They grew to understand one another’s flowers, clan histories, and preferences. Where for many other couples these would become a cause to fall apart, it only made them stronger. They were beautiful, kind and clever, after all, and they artfully welded their beliefs to create a system that they both believed in as much as they breathed in air.

An enraged prince, wholly enamoured in the princess and disrespecting her autonomy, was angered at the fact that he did not get the chance with her that he truly deserved. Upon a diplomatic visit to the princess’s palace, he slipped a slow acting poison that the healers could not detect until it was too late.

On her deathbed, the lovers embraced and held each other tight through the stormy night. Hours passed and the princess knew that she was going to be with the Force sooner rather than later as the world began to spin around her, losing its focus and its sharpness. Knowing this, she kissed her beloved on the cheek and using the last of her strength, told him that she loved him.

Unfortunately, unbeknownst to her, there was a wicked sorceress - sounding very much like the Dathomirian witches it was alarming - who wanted the prince to be disposed of. Knowing intimately of the feelings the princess possessed for him, the sorceress unleashed a curse that meant that with every breath, the prince would feel as if he was stepping on the bed of nails the moment she died.

The Benevolent’s last living days were then spent in constant agony. Each step on his toes sent sharp pains coursing throughout his body, his lungs giving out even if he sat up in bed. His desire to wander, to be with his people the way he has always known, was extinguished. He was chained to his bed, his desire to live. At last, the prince succumbed to his illness not long after the princess did to hers.

Instead, the footnotes of the story warned, it was better to tell someone about lifelong promises, to verbalise unbreakable vows. Things like  _ I am always happy to walk with you, dear one. I want to be around for every laugh and every cry. It is your deep-fried nuna legs -  _ he laughs at that -  _ that I will never stop eating.  _

Promises compel and entrench in a way that statements can never truly encompass. There is something weighty that a simple phrase like  _ I love you  _ can never encapsulate. And that was that.

Really, he had no cause to revisit such an opinion.

Until almost thirty years later.

* * *

The tales of his homeworld don’t account for a moody former Padawan turned very secret partner who, after a mission, slunk away into his room and did not leave like a burnt Loth cat.

Obi-Wan does what a good Master is meant to do. He waits for Anakin to come out, ask Ahsoka as many questions as possible to ensure that nothing went over his head that he didn’t mean to. They had verified that no, Obi-Wan hadn’t done something grievous by accident (he found that he was more prone to that than anything else), Ahsoka or Anakin hadn’t gotten up to more than a little mischief, and yes, for all intents and purposes, Anakin had seemed fine until he got off the ship.

Normally, Anakin was back in Obi-Wan’s bed the night after such things, pressing into his side and venting whatever concerns came into his head. Not this time. Their bond, normally rolling through joy-sadness-anger-confusion, is silent. The static that dances on Obi-Wan’s skin where Anakin’s presence should be is an itch no scratching implement can soothe.

It was the third evening of solitude before Obi-Wan caved, rapping his knuckles on the door leading to Anakin’s quarters. Ahsoka had done the same earlier that afternoon with no response. This was pertinent and if left unsorted, Obi-Wan  _ will  _ go to Healer Che about this. “Anakin,” he calls out, his fist still clinging onto the door. “When was the last time you ate anything?”

“Go away!”

Obi-Wan frowns, “I’m afraid I can’t.” He sits beside the door, his head sagging against the cool durasteel. “I don’t recall giving you any food. Have you hogged a Republic’s worth of ration bars?” He smirks, though it is as hollow as a training saber, “If you want to go out, I believe Dex has promised us the feast of a lifetime.”

The door whooshes open, and for now, Obi-Wan declares it a victory. “Thank you for letting me in,” he greets, his stare sweeping across the room to search for Anakin’s form. His heart sears painfully as he catches sight of his partner drooping like an unwatered flower, his gaze downcast and their bond crackling back to life. Tidal waves of hurt-confusion-longing hit Obi-Wan like blaster shots, and it almost makes him fall to his knees.

_ What has hurt his dear Anakin so much that he feels this way? _

His arm is outstretched as he plops down on his partner’s bed. It is difficult not to notice how the air surrounding him is chilly, far from the furnace that is Anakin. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

Anakin fills the void like a key. “I know we said we’re going to try and talk more about our feelings without judgment, so I would like it very much if you just… listened. Is that okay?” After Obi-Wan nods, he presses on. “I know we’ve been together for a long time - I know months isn’t all  _ that  _ long in the grand scheme of things - and I feel… really strongly about you. You are so  _ patient,  _ and I don’t understand how you always find the time to ask me about what I’m doing. Even when I told you about the Tusken Raiders” - both Anakin and Obi-Wan school their winces immaculately, but their bond flares with agony-distrust- _ wrong _ \- “you just held me and told me that everything was going to be okay.”

Anakin frowns, pouts as he looks up and confesses, “I love you, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan blinks. Words churn in his head. “Not to be rude, dear one, but I am not sure why you are upset.”

“I’m upset because I know you’d never say it back.”

Obi-Wan gasps.  _ “What?  _ Anakin - “ He holds up a finger as Anakin opens his lips. “What gives you the impression that I’d never say it back?”

Anakin paused. Obi-Wan could hear the sandstorm buzzing in his brain. “You always… skirt around the subject.” No, Obi-Wan couldn’t fault that. “I know that going around things is how you are, and I guess that’s  _ fine,  _ but you told me that Satine loved you, and the most you ever told her was ‘If you had said the word, I would’ve left the Jedi Order’” - he says this with a degree of mockery which could only have come from conversations with Ahsoka and Obi-Wan could not fault that either - “which I’m sure has the same  _ sentiment,  _ but it doesn’t mean the same thing.

“Even when Qui-Gon died and you spoke to him while he was on the pyre, you could never say the words, even if I knew that you did. Love him, I mean. Instead, you just went… on and on about sparring and tzai and… some mission on Pijal? I don’t remember it that well; I was nine, after all.”

Anakin shakes his head, reaching out to clasp Obi-Wan’s hands in his own. “And it matters to me because on Tatooine, saying the words ‘I love you’ is incredibly important. It’s about as close to being engaged as you can get as a slave. To not be able to hear it back… they say that unrequited love like that, it poisons you. You will die a painful death if you don’t hear it back.”

It was then that the fragments fell into place. Obi-Wan nods but his heart hangs heavy with regret. “Anakin,” he says slowly, squeezing Anakin’s hands as much as he struggles to get the words out. “I believe there has been a gross misunderstanding.” Anakin barely stirs, and Obi-Wan continues on. “In my homeworld, it’s the opposite: it’s bad luck to simply tell someone you love them. It’s a tale I should tell you sometime.” Obi-Wan nudges closer, giving a small peck to Anakin’s forehead. “Instead, we find other, more creative ways to tell someone.”

Obi-Wan holds Anakin’s knuckles close to his lips, his lips brushing against them as he speaks. “I cherish every smile that you give me in the morning and I will embrace them as if they were the first one.” His lips move up a set of knuckles. “I am grateful to share in your every invention, no matter the mess they cause in our quarters because they bring you so much joy.” The back of Anakin’s hand. “I am so  _ very thankful  _ that I have a partner as compassionate as you are, who continues to challenge my worldview and examine others from a different angle than I can by virtue of who you are.” 

Anakin’s eyes flutter open. Obi-Wan lets himself quiver at the touch of reverence that radiates from him. “I am very grateful that you trust me enough to tell me your concerns, dear one. Now that we know what the problem is, we can work past it.”

The laugh Anakin gives Obi-Wan in return grates like cheese. “I, uh, feel a little silly now. I didn’t even think that it would be a custom thing. I shouldn’t have assumed. You know what you say about assuming.”

“And I believe overhearing Master Windu was how you got wind of such an adage.”

“I didn’t,” Anakin sighs. His stomach rumbles: a welcome storm that cuts the seriousness in the room like a knife. “I, uh, you won’t mind right now if we go to Dex’s for a visit, now would you?”

Obi-Wan presses a kiss to Anakin’s forehead. “Of course I won’t mind, dear one. Come, the world’s biggest nuna legs await.” 

Obi-Wan stands, still holding Anakin’s flesh hand dearly in his chest. Obi-Wan tugs, hauling Anakin from his sitting position and almost missing his yelp as their chests collide, Anakin’s weary head slotting itself perfectly onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“If you really want to, we can come up with an ‘I love you’ equivalent which isn’t so flowery,” Obi-Wan whispers, wrapping his arms around Anakin’s waist. “I can understand how it can be weary to declare your love grandly every time you would desire to.”

“Not now, though,” Anakin whispers, a satisfied sigh as he sags onto Obi-Wan’s warm body, “need nuna legs.”

Obi-Wan chuckles, gently squeezing Anakin’s torso. “I’m sure you won’t mind me driving, dear one?”

Now it was Anakin’s turn to squawk. He stiffens in Obi-Wan’s embrace, his spine rigid and expression serious as he regards his former master. “No. We’ll  _ never  _ get there if you do.  _ I’m  _ taking  _ my  _ speeder, obviously.”

Warmth floods Obi-Wan: Anakin’s fire has returned and he now knows acutely to always be feeding it with kindling. “If you’re sure. Race you to the hangar?”

Before Anakin could get a word in edgewise, before he could even afford to pivot away from his partner’s doting gaze, Obi-Wan places a chaste kiss to Anakin’s lips. He smirks as he withdraws, darting towards the hangar and definitely  _ not  _ aiming to take the speeder that isn’t modified to Wild Space and back.

“Hey!” Anakin screams, rushing after Obi-Wan with the speed and elegance of a Loth wolf. And now, his chest can afford to be full again.

**Author's Note:**

> cry about obikin with me @cardiolcgy on tumblr


End file.
